


a thousand years more

by sumaru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>It could be a hundred years, a thousand, and Daichi still doesn’t know how to make the right words with his mouth.</p>
</blockquote><br/>Daichi always finds Suga in every lifetime.
            </blockquote>





	a thousand years more

The very first time Daichi remembers him, the autumn sun is just setting behind the mountains, and the tea fields are burnished gold, and there is gold in Sugawara’s pale ash air, and there is gold in his eyes, too.

 

“Is there anything else you need?” Sugawara’s eyes are crinkled with a smile as he starts to carefully rewrap in cloths the medicines that are his trade, and his father’s before him.

 

Daichi can’t make the words with his mouth, can barely make the words with his mind, and his thoughts are of the only thing that brings them here, standing together, in this little village in the green mountains, so far from the cities and the sea. “Tea. Green tea.”

 

A pale, round little eyebrow quirks up; a question, teasing. “Do you mean you’d like to trade some of your tea for something else? Though I’m afraid my stock is rather limited at this time of the year, and you’ve seen all that I have.”

 

“I mean, would you like to have some tea.” Daichi’s words are rushed, rough in his ears, and he can feel his cheeks flush red. He hopes the tan of his skin hides most of it. “The sun is setting, and the mountain path can be dangerous. I don’t have much to offer in terms of hospitality, but you are welcome to stay the night.”

 

Daichi’s hospitalities are more than enough for a man like Sugawara, a steady warmth like the candle that stays lit through the night, and the mountain paths are indeed dangerous; a fierce wind cuts the bridge from its moorings late that evening and sends it down the river, and the snow starts falling heavy the next day.

 

Sugawara stays the winter, and then the spring, and then he stays for the seasons after that, too.

 

\--

 

The next time Daichi remembers him, he is crowned in gold and the black lustrous lacquer of his hair; there is still gold in Sugawara’s eyes, but it is pale and sharp, and Daichi watches him from afar as the autumn sun sets behind the tall spires of the temples that line the city streets.

 

\--

 

There is no sun, today, it’s the true grey of an autumn sky, and the leaves hang red and gold on the trees, waiting for wind and weather to pluck them from the sprig. It has turned cold, but the little grey spotted cat that sits outside the park still comes every day, setting down primly on its haunches by the tall wooden gate.

 

“Still no mail for you today,” Daichi chuckles, as he walks around the corner with the brim of his postman’s hat pulled low; the wind has picked up, and there is the bite of an early winter there.

 

The cat rubs up against Daichi’s leg, and he stoops carefully to scratch it under the chin, behind the ears, and when the cat flops down on its back in a purring little bundle of grey fur with paws akimbo in the air, Daichi rubs the soft fur of its belly, too.

 

“What a good-natured cat you are,” Daichi smiles fondly as the cat licks as his fingers, pulling at him with gentle paws as if to keep Daichi here just a little bit longer. “But you should probably find somewhere warmer to spend your time, it’s going to get much colder soon.”

 

When he leaves, the cat watches him go, doesn’t take its golden eyes off of him, even as Daichi disappears down the street and a bitter gust of wind knocks the last of the leaves from the tree.

 

In the spring the cat is gone, and when Daichi looks around the park where the cat used to sit, he finds only a flock of crows, newly settled and loud.

 

\--

 

There are no leaves left in the trees, there is only fire; it spreads across the once green mountain, dry from a season of drought, and everything is a terrible cloud of red and black. Daichi is coughing up ash smoke as he leads the evacuation with a small squad of firefighters, but the wind turns suddenly as he pulls the last of a family from a house going up in flames.

 

The roar of the updraft is thunderous; Daichi only just manages to drag himself out from under the wooden crossbeam that collapses on him, barely makes it out into the open air.

 

“Please hang on,” the young husband of the family pleads, the embers in the air mirroring the gold in his eyes. He’s holding Daichi’s hand as emergency workers scramble to cover the too long distance to reach them.

 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Daichi murmurs, or at least tries to, but the wind carries ash over him.

 

\--

 

“I like you, Daichi. I really like you.”

 

Daichi can only stare at Sugawara, whose eyes are fierce as he’s framed by the setting sun, hands clenched in fists by his side; but they look small and they tremble slightly in the sleeves of his black gakuran. _This spring has been a little colder than most_ , Daichi thinks lamely, because he’s having a hard time thinking anything at all.

 

It could be a hundred years, a thousand, and Daichi still doesn’t know how to make the right words with his mouth

 

The second button on both their gakuran remains untouched.

 

\--

 

Daichi sees him across the campus green, knows the way the low light of the afternoon catches the pale ash of his hair, knows the bounce of his step as he strides with hands tucked in pockets.

 

“Suga!” Daichi yells, undignified, barely holding onto the takeaway cup of green tea in his hand as he first walks, then runs toward him. “Sugawara Koushi!”

 

Knows the exact amusement in the lift of that round, pale brow.

 

“I’m sor-- Please let me-- Would you like--”

 

“Daichi, if you’re about to ask me out for tea after not talking to me for two years,” Sugawara interrupts, gesturing toward the takeaway cup, “and if you’re about to ask me out for tea after not talking to me for two years while _holding a cup of tea_ _\--”_

 

But there’s a warmth there in his words, and if it’s not forgiveness, not yet, it’s also the promise of his fingers pressed firm against Daichi’s arm, fond, and Daichi can only look at the small smile tucked in the corner of Sugawara’s mouth, can only think to chase it for a thousand years more.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt asked for something inspired by [25 Lives](http://s2b2.livejournal.com/142934.html) by tongari, so... here it is.


End file.
